


Set Ablaze

by demonzafterdark



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Reader, Mental Institutions, Michael and Reader are equally fucked up but in different ways, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Halloween (1978), Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonzafterdark/pseuds/demonzafterdark
Summary: [Michael Myers x Arsonist! Reader]You’ve set a lot of things ablaze over your life, but you never expected Michael Myers’ ice-cold heart to be one of them.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader, Michael Myers/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea popped into my head at 3 AM last night and I haven't been able to shake it. 
> 
> This chapter along with the next will be an introductory type of thing, so things will be kind of slow until chapter 3. Sorry about that, but I promise it'll be worth it. Anyway, on with the story. Enjoy!
> 
> TW: Abuse, alcoholism, and violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea popped into my head at 3 AM last night and I haven't been able to shake it. I kind of lost inspiration for my other fics, so I'm hoping that this one can kickstart my writing motivation again.
> 
> This chapter along with the next will be an introductory type of thing, so things will be kind of slow until chapter 3. Sorry about that, but I promise it'll be worth it. Anyway, on with the story. Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter TW: Abuse, alcoholism, and violence.

_Haddonfield Juvenile Detention Center, 1974._

Sunlight filtered through the barred window of her cell, rousing [Name] from her sleep. Sleepy and irritated, she squinted against the harsh glare of the morning sun, shielding her eyes. The clock perched on the wall across her cell read 6:45, causing her to groan. Her schedule started at 7:00, so going back to sleep was pointless.

With a heavy sigh, [Name] sat up, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and began her morning routine.

Just another typical morning at the Haddonfield Juvenile Detention Center.

* * *

At precisely 7:15, [Name] was let out of her cell and lined up with her fellow delinquents to be led to the cafeteria. Today’s breakfast was gray mush trying to pass as oatmeal, a fruit cup, and milk. The oatmeal was virtually indistinguishable from cement and looked just as unappetizing, so [Name] opted to forgo breakfast and just eat her fruit cup instead.

The rest of her day was mostly uneventful. Class started and ended in the blink of an eye, punctuated only by a brief lunch break. Until dinner, she spent her time in the recreation room alternating between playing pool and playing Pong on the well-worn arcade cabinet in the corner.

Dinner was only slightly better than breakfast - a mystery meat patty slathered in gravy, mashed potatoes that were the consistency of glue, and peas that were so gritty that it felt like [Name] was eating sand.

[Name] sighed. She couldn’t wait until her eighteenth birthday rolled around… Once she was legally an adult, she could finally leave this goddamn hellhole.

Just a few more weeks. She could hold out until then.

* * *

The day of [Name]’s eighteenth birthday was a pleasant change from her usual routine. No guards came banging on her cell door to wake her up at the crack of dawn and she was allowed a special breakfast of pancakes for breakfast instead of the runny scrambled eggs they were serving. 

When class was dismissed at 3 PM, [Name] was promptly collected by the warden and brought to his office. 

“Congratulations on completing your stay at the Haddonfield Juvenile Detention Center. Because you’re officially an adult and you’ve demonstrated repeated good behavior, I think you’re deserving of being released a few days early.” The warden said. “Stop by the receptionist’s desk to collect your belongings. Happy birthday and goodbye.”

[Name] nodded and said a quick thank you before making her way to the reception desk. She tried not to look too excited - after all, she wasn’t even out of the facility yet.

The receptionist barely acknowledged her as she gave [Name] her belongings, but [Name] couldn’t care less. She was free.

[Name] made a quick stop in the bathroom to quickly change out of her juvie uniform and into some jeans and a t-shirt before freely stepping outside the facility for the first time in five years. For a few moments, she just stood there breathing in the cool air. There was no more stifling aura of misery, nor did the pervasive odor of sweaty gym socks invade her senses every hour of the day.

Her ticket to freedom sat just ten feet away in the form of a yellow school bus, empty save for her and the driver. As soon as she stepped on the bus, the smell of gym socks burned her nostrils once again, but this time [Name] didn’t care. She was going home.

* * *

“Hello? I’m back.”

[Name]’s greeting was met with silence. _Was anyone even home?_

Upon checking the master bedroom, she found her stepmother fast asleep in an alcohol-induced stupor. [Name] could tell that she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, so she moved on to the next room: her older brother’s.

His room was empty. _He was probably out with his friends. Thank God._ [Name] thought.

Her father was nowhere to be seen either, meaning she was all alone.

[Name] plopped down on the couch and lit a cigarette. Her mind wandered as she took a long drag.

She wondered if things at home had changed in the five years she’d been away. Was her stepmother still an alcoholic? Was her father still just as abusive as he was before? Would her brother still try to grope her when no one was around?

[Name] was too engrossed in her thoughts to hear the front door open. It wasn’t until she heard the floorboards creak that she realized that someone was home. Hastily, she fumbled to put her cigarette out, but it was too late. Her eyes met her father’s cold glare as he snatched the cigarette out of her hand.

He pulled [Name] to her feet by the collar.

“You stupid girl, what did I tell you about smoking inside my house?”

“I just got home from juvie, I wasn’t thinking, I’m sorry-” [Name] sputtered, but her cries fell on deaf ears.

There was a sharp smack. [Name] found herself on her knees a moment later with the right side of her face tender and throbbing in pain. She was so taken aback that she didn’t even register that her father had stubbed out her cigarette on the back of her shoulder.

“Useless daughter of mine.” He spat in disdain. “Remember what I told you because next time I won’t be so nice.”

Her father stomped away, leaving [Name] alone with her thoughts.

She sat there for a long time, unmoving. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t even upset. She just felt hollow. Her family was the same as ever. Her brother wasn’t home yet, but she already knew that he would have something equally unpleasant in store for her.

Slowly, she picked herself up, dusted herself off, and stumbled into the kitchen to grab an ice pack. 

* * *

A few hours later, [Name] trudged to the bathroom to check on her face. 

She barely recognized the person she saw in the mirror - she looked like a corpse. The combination of her gaunt face and the puffy, dark circles ringed her eyes made it look like she hadn’t slept in years. Her eyes were dull and devoid of any of their usual mirth or mischief. Her hair hadn’t fared well either; it dangled limp and lifeless around her face. The only indication that she was even alive was the angry hand-shaped bruise on her cheek.

While it still flared up with pain every so often, the swelling had gone down considerably. 

That was one less problem to deal with. 

[Name]’s shoulders sagged. She had only been home for one day and the stress of her home life was already weighing down on her. Perhaps a hot shower would do her good.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, [Name] stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed. Her stress had been washed away along with the day’s grime, leaving her clean and relaxed.

[Name] toweled herself dry and put on a clean pair of pajamas before settling into her bed. For the first time in five years, she could finally unwind… or so she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to combine this and chapter three into one long chapter but as I was writing it, the document just got longer and longer and longer, so I figured it would just be better to split them.
> 
> TW: Sexual assault, violence

The moment [Name]’s head hit her pillow, she felt the exhaustion of the day’s events settle in. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her.

Around 1 AM, a figure silently crept into [Name]’s room. He settled into her bed and made himself comfortable next to her, nonchalantly sliding a hand under her pajama shirt. He pressed his nose into [Name]’s hair and took a deep inhale, savoring the sweet, delicate scent of her shampoo as he began to fondle his sister’s chest.

He felt his dick harden. Five years. It’s been five years that he’s gone without release because of [Name]’s extended juvie sentence. Now that she was home with him… He wasn’t going to let her go.

[Name] began to squirm as her brother’s groping got rougher, but her struggling only aroused him more. He began to rut his clothed dick against his sister’s soft, supple ass and almost came right then and there from how good it felt. 

A particularly hard pinch to [Name]’s nipple caused her to start awake. Immediately, three things came to mind: the first to register was the sensation of a foreign body pressed against her own. The second was the stiffness against her ass. The third was a visceral feeling of disgust. As fast as she could, she swatted her assailant’s hand off her chest and clicked her lamp on, illuminating the flushed face of her brother.

If looks could kill, her brother would have dropped dead. The rage in [Name]’s eyes made her look murderous.

“Eric,” She spat. “Get the fuck out of my room.”

Eric only smiled and approached her, arms wide open. [Name] slapped them away, but her brother wasn’t deterred.

“God, I love it when you’re feisty.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Aw [Name], don’t be like that.” Eric’s lecherous smile grew as he gestured to the bulge in his pants. “Say hello to your big brother, it’s been five years since I’ve seen you.”

Her scowl only deepened. 

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to get out before I beat the shit out of you. One.”

Eric didn’t move.

“Two.”

He took a step closer.

“Three.”

Eric moved again.

[Name] stood firm, glowering up at her brother. “Four.”

“Five.”

Eric swooped down for a kiss. In the next moment, he was left breathless, but not by [Name]’s lips. Instead, he found one of [Name]’s hands wrapped tightly around his throat. 

Her other fist shot out to punch him in the face.

“I told you to fucking leave, but you didn’t.” [Name] snarled. “Now you’re gonna pay the price for touching me, you depraved piece of shit.”

[Name]’s grip around Eric’s neck tightened, but she paid no attention to the choking noises coming from his mouth. Instead, she shoved him against a wall and began to use his face as a punching bag.

There was a sickening crack as a particularly hard punch broke his nose, but [Name] ignored it. She instead opted to keep pummeling him until his face was utterly unrecognizable. When she finally removed her hand from her brother’s neck, he collapsed on the floor like a ragdoll. By the sound of his wet, labored breathing, he was still alive. Unfortunately.

[Name] grabbed the collar of her brother’s shirt and dragged him into the hall before unceremoniously letting him fall in front of his room. She couldn’t help feeling a smug sense of satisfaction when he groaned in pain.

When she returned to her room, she then took a few minutes to examine her hand. Her knuckles were split and bloody. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was beginning to set in. 

She huffed before walking off to the bathroom to deal with her injuries. A few minutes later, [Name] returned to her room, making sure to lock her door this time. Her newly bandaged knuckles were still tender to the touch and stung whenever she moved her fingers, but she could deal with it for the time being. The painkillers she took would kick in soon.

In the meantime, [Name] sat on her bed and thought about the day’s events. It was her first day back home and she didn’t receive so much as a hello from her family. Her birthday gifts had come in the form of her blackout drunk stepmother, physical abuse from her father, and sexual assault from her brother. A very happy birthday to her indeed.

She felt an urge tug at the back of her mind. She was itching to set something on fire.

[Name] tried to quash the thought. She just got out of juvie for arson, for Christ’s sake!

The longer she ignored it, the stronger the urge became. Her fingers twitched, eager to play with the Zippo lighter hidden away in her drawer. 

The urge was simply too strong to ignore. In a few seconds, [Name] was on her feet and rummaging through her desk drawer. The Zippo was in her hands a moment later, and she flicked it on.

Watching the tiny orange flame flicker before her eyes sated her urge, but only briefly. She wanted more.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered, _“Burn the house down.”_

[Name] paused. She couldn’t help but entertain the idea.

She didn’t care about the legalities. It would be another blemish on her criminal record, but it wasn’t like she had a spotless reputation anyway.

As the day’s events echoed in her mind, her thoughts shifted to her family. If she went through with it, they would surely burn to death along with the house, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. They all deserved to burn in hell.

There was no going back now-- her bloodlust had already consumed her. The urge to burn the house had settled itself into her thoughts, and it wasn’t leaving until she indulged it.

As much as she wanted to torch the house with reckless abandon, [Name] didn’t want to get too ahead of herself. She needed to make sure that she did things properly. If even one thing went awry, she risked someone surviving.

First things first: dispose of the fire extinguishers.

There were three located around the house. One was in the kitchen, another was in the garage, and the last was in the broom closet. She quickly gathered them up and brought them outside before pulling the pin and emptying their contents. Once she was sure they were empty, she moved on to the second step of her plan: trailing gasoline around the interior and exterior of the house.

[Name] couldn’t help but grin when she saw the spare gallon of gasoline her father kept in the garage. For the first time in her life, she thanked him for making her life easier.

As she uncapped the bright red container, the smell of gasoline drifted up to her nose. It brought back fond memories of when she first started committing arson. It was nowhere near the scale of what she was doing now, but the satisfaction in watching it burn and the rush of adrenaline as she ran from the police was always the same. It was addicting.

However, tonight was different. This was no petty act of arson- tonight, she would execute her largest, most ambitious crime yet. It was her magnum opus, her mark she’d leave on the sleepy town of Haddonfield.

Once [Name] finished drenching the entirety of her home with gasoline, she took a moment to admire her handiwork. She was almost ready to set her plan in motion, but there were a few loose ends she needed to tie up before she did.

[Name] took two chairs from the kitchen and propped them under the doorknobs of the rooms of her sleeping family, effectively locking them in. She then went around the house and removed the batteries from all the smoke detectors. The final nail in the coffin was when she severed the phone line. There was no way in hell her family would survive the night.

It was time.

She removed her Zippo from her pocket and pressed a kiss to its casing.

“We had a good run together, buddy. Send them to hell for me, yeah?”

With that, [Name] ignited the trail of gasoline and watched her plan come to fruition.

* * *

It took about seventeen minutes for the house to fully burn down, and a few hours after that for it to reduce to embers.

All that remained of [Name]’s childhood home was its collapsed, blackened frame.

She did it. Her family was dead.

Now, it was time to face the consequences.

The authorities had arrived at around 4:30 in the morning, but it was far too late for them to do anything. The fire had already consumed everything.

[Name] was escorted to the police station in silence. It was only when she was brought in for questioning that she spoke.

“Good morning, [Name].”

“Morning, Sheriff Brackett.”

“I have a couple of questions concerning the fire at your house this morning.” He said. “Don’t look so worried, you’ll be out of here in no time.”

_That’s cute, but I’m not stupid. There’s no way I’m walking out of here as a free woman._

“So, first things first. My buddy Deputy Hunt said he found you sitting in front of the house, but your family was nowhere to be found. Do you know where they were?”

“In the house.”

“Did you wake them up before you left the house?”

“No sir.”

“Why not?”

“Well, sir, I was the one who started the fire.”

The Sheriff looked taken aback.

“You… started the fire, you said? Why?”

[Name] couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face.

“With all due respect, sir, why wouldn’t I? They deserved it.”

Sheriff Brackett took a deep inhale before making his way to the door.

“Thank you for your time, [Name].”

As he left, the door creaked behind him but didn’t close all the way. It was enough for [Name] to hear bits and pieces of the conversation the Sheriff was having with his colleagues.

_“How did questioning go?”_

_“She admitted to starting the fire, but… she’s definitely got a few screws loose...”_

_“...think she’ll be able to stand trial?”_

_“I don’t know. We might have to… Smith’s Grove...”_

Suddenly, the door closed, preventing [Name] from overhearing anything else. Seems like someone noticed it was open.

She sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before the Sheriff came back.

“[Name], because of the information you shared with us just now, you’re technically under arrest for committing a felony. However, I discussed your case with my colleagues, and since we don’t know if you still pose a threat to yourself or others, we unanimously decided that it would be best for us to have you evaluated at Smith’s Grove.” Sheriff Brackett explained. “You’ll stay there for five days before we can determine if you’re able to stand trial. Understand?”

She nodded.

“Good. We’re driving you out today. If we manage to stay on schedule, you might be able to catch breakfast there.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: None

Unsurprisingly, the drive up to the sanitarium was long and boring.

When the car finally pulled up to the doors of the facility, [Name] all but jumped out of the Sheriff’s cruiser. Listening to his horrible taste in music while she was cooped up in the cramped, stuffy backseat got really old really quickly.

Now that she was out in the open air, she was able to take a good look at her surroundings.

_ Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, home for the criminally insane. _

Despite its name, the outside was rather unassuming. The large facility attempted to look somewhat modern with its black-trimmed exterior, but the washed-out shade of eggshell white paint only reminded her of juvie. Unlike juvie, however, the grounds looked well-maintained. The yard was fenced in, but instead of having a cracked, concrete floor, with barely any equipment, the grounds had numerous courts for different sports, a garden, and an expansive open area dotted with trees.

She saw a handful of people clad in white clothes scattered across the yard. No one looked outwardly dangerous, which [Name] took as a good sign. 

Perhaps if she managed not to start any fights, she’d be able to have a decent stay at the facility. Maybe she’d even be able to make a friend or two.

* * *

_ The staff was busier than usual today, _ Michael noticed.

More orderlies were bustling about, and that could only be for two reasons: either he was getting moved to a different room or someone new had just been admitted to the facility. A few minutes later, he came to find out that it was the latter. 

He first saw her when he was being escorted to the cafeteria for breakfast.

She was around his age, about eighteen or so. Upon first glance, nothing about her seemed out of the ordinary. She just looked like a normal girl. If it wasn’t for the sheer number of staff herding her around, Michael wouldn’t have spared her a second glance.

It was hard to believe that so many staff members had to be ready to restrain such an unassuming girl. The amount of staff surrounding her was typically only reserved for patients with violent tendencies, like him. 

She didn’t look like she was the type to lash out, though. The entire time she was being led around by the staff, she just stared straight ahead, bored and apathetic. She didn’t scream or plead, didn’t bite, didn’t struggle against them. Nothing about her appearance or behavior suggested that she was remotely dangerous, but the look in her eyes and the way she carried herself said otherwise.

Michael watched her until she was ushered into an administrative office and out of sight. 

For the first time in a very long time, he felt curious. What a strange girl. 

* * *

[Name]’s intake was absolutely miserable. A psychiatrist poked and prodded through her file and questioned her on the trauma she’d tried so hard to suppress in order to get a “better understanding” of her psyche. She felt like an animal on display, and it was positively humiliating. It was only a matter of time before something got under her skin and cracked her cool, collected facade.

Being forced to open up about her trauma only served to reopen old wounds. She felt like a little girl again. Helpless. Vulnerable. Naive.

_ Stop. Go away. Don’t think about that. _ [Name] shoved her thoughts back to the recesses of her mind.  _ That was years ago, that isn’t me anymore. There’s no one left to hurt me. _

Her fists curled and uncurled as she forced herself to regain her composure as if nothing happened. She blinked her tears away, unclenched her jaw, and relaxed her face, letting her features slip into an expression of neutrality once again.

The psychiatrist was still blabbering away, unbothered. No one had noticed her demeanor slip, it seemed.

“...And that’s all the time we have today. I’m glad we were able to chat today, it’s been quite insightful. The staff outside will escort you to the cafeteria for breakfast and when you’re done, you’ll see Dr. Loomis. Thank you for your time!”

Sourly, [Name] offered her a curt nod in response before getting up to leave. 

Once she was back in the main hallway, she was confronted by the delicious smell of french toast, lifting her mood immediately.

The staff didn’t waste any time in escorting her to the cafeteria. As soon as she was inside, [Name] was motioned to the back of a line where she was given a tray of french toast, fruit, and something to drink. Once she received her breakfast, however, she hesitated. In her haste to eat, she hadn’t thought about where she was going to sit.

A quick glance across the cafeteria revealed that most of the tables were taken. [Name] didn’t want to squeeze into a crowded table and accidentally start a fight, so she opted to look for a sparsely-populated one instead.

She spotted the perfect table a moment later, tucked away in the corner of the cafeteria. The only person at the table sat all the way at the end and didn’t acknowledge her when she walked up. He probably wouldn’t have cared if she sat down, but still. [Name] had manners.

“Excuse me, is it okay if I sit here?”

He stared blankly at [Name] in response before offering a small shrug of his shoulders.

She took his gesture as a yes.

“Cool, thanks.”

Her new table-mate didn’t seem interested in a conversation, so [Name] took a seat at the opposite end of the table and began eating.

As she was finishing up, another person approached the table. He was tall and stocky and oozed arrogance. He hadn’t said anything yet, but [Name] could already tell that he was a massive asshole.

She was proven correct a moment later when he sidled up to her table-mate and slung an arm around his shoulders. [Name] saw his jaw clench at the contact.

“Michael! How ya doin’, buddy?”

His tone was overly friendly, almost condescending. It was painfully obvious that he was doing it just to get a rise out of Michael.

“Come on, don’t act like ya don’t know me. We’re friends, right? Right, Mikey? Right?” With that, he elbowed Michael’s arm hard, making Michael spill water down the front of his shirt.

[Name] saw Michael’s free hand begin to inch toward his cutlery.

Her lips thinned. Her time on the streets quickly taught her how to recognize when shit was about to go down, and this was no exception. If no one intervened, things were going to get messy.

Don’t start any fights, her ass. If a fight was what it took to prevent a shitshow, then so be it.

While the two were distracted, [Name] stood up and walked right in front of them. She drew herself up to her full height and put on her most intimidating glare before making her presence known.

“Hey, big guy. Quit it.”

The bulkier man’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice before a leer spread across his face.

“What’s this? Is she your girlfriend, Mikey?”

“We’re not dating. I’m just stepping in because you’re obviously bothering him, so back the fuck off.”

Michael’s harasser stood up and slowly circled the table to where [Name] stood. “Your mama ever tell you not to stick your nose where it don’t belong?”

She was his target now. He was much bigger and bulkier than her, but she refused to back down. If he wanted a fight, she’d gladly give him one. She’d fought larger men before, this guy was nothing.

They were almost nose-to-nose now. 

Time seemed to crawl to a standstill as they stared each other down, waiting for the other person to make the first move.

To [Name]’s surprise, instead of attacking her, he thrust his hand out for a handshake.

“You’re a tough one, I like you.” It wasn’t a compliment with how his eyes roamed her body. “Name’s Tony O'Malley.”

“[Name] [Last Name].”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” His leer widened. “Better remember my name because soon I’ll have you screaming it.”

Her lips curled in disgust as she all but dropped his hand after briefly shaking it. Real classy.

“See you around, sweetheart.”

With a wink and a sickeningly sweet tone that made [Name]’s skin crawl, Tony took his leave.

Ugh. At least she managed to get him to leave Michael alone.

Speaking of Michael, he had been silently watching her exchange with Tony the whole time.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t know if you had that douchebag under control, so I stepped in. Force of habit.” [Name] said. “Don’t know if you caught it, but I’m [Name] [Last Name]. I just got here today.”

Michael didn’t acknowledge her outstretched hand and instead left her hanging.

“Not a handshake guy, huh? It’s fine.” She awkwardly retracted her hand.

“Anyway, I need to go. Busy schedule and all that.” It felt like she was talking to a wall. “Nice meeting you, Michael. Thanks again for letting me sit with you.”

[Name] gathered her garbage and threw it away before making her way out of the cafeteria, acutely aware of Michael’s hawk-like gaze burning holes into the back of her head the whole time.

* * *

As she waited to meet her next doctor, she mused over the events that had occurred just a few minutes prior.

[Name] huffed. She hadn’t even been at the facility for a full day and her plan to avoid starting conflicts had already gone out the window.

There was no doubt that Tony would be a problem. Michael, on the other hand… He was definitely a strange one. He seemed kind of familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.

As she racked her brain, [Name] got the feeling that he was still watching her. Her head whipped around to glance behind her, but the hallway was empty. 

It happened a few more times, but every time she looked back, there was no one there. It was only when she entered Dr. Loomis’ office that it stopped completely.

“Ah, Ms. [Last Name]! Please, take a seat.”

[Name]’s head snapped toward the voice with a start.

There, she saw a balding, middle-aged man sitting at a desk. He had deep wrinkles and dark circles under his eyes, and his beard was in the process of going grey. The poor man looked like he was in desperate need of a vacation.

“You look spooked. Did something happen?”

[Name] swallowed thickly as she sat down. “Thought someone was watching me.”

“We have patients like that, I wouldn’t worry about it.” The man responded. “My name is Doctor Samuel Loomis. I’m one of the senior psychiatrists at Smith’s Grove. I deal with cases like yours, and as such, you have been assigned to me.”

Dr. Loomis placed a thick black binder in front of her.

“This here is your file. It contains everything about you, ranging from your medical history to your criminal record. It’s quite a comprehensive guide to your past.”

[Name] sneered. “You here to reopen old wounds like that other psychiatrist did during my intake?”

“Oh no, not at all. Over the next few days, my job is to examine your mental state to determine if you can be tried in court.”

“Fun.”

“Indeed. Now, the results of your intake...”

  
She sighed.  _ Here we go again. _


End file.
